Monday, November 11, 2013

The tainting of Darian the BareHearted

An excerpt from the chronicles of John Angeldust :

From the tongue of Onema, the thought - "...the battle raged on and in the midst of the falling sunder, the ranger brought the message to Darian, that his beloved, Koria's village had been blackened out from the chain of supply. It wasn't because of any personal reason, it was moreso a simple report of economic strain and how it would affect the war at large. But Darian, the third of the Noric Host, the warrior driven by heart's devotion, broke rank and broke ground to move from his designated field. It was a move that was not noted too decisively by the light, due to the fact that Darian had already kept the field twice as long as he was supposed to. Only the Blackedeyes kept watch from the side of the blessed.

What was not noticed though, by either Light Blackedeye or Dark Shinegazer was the curve on the lips of the Chaos windriders as the sky grew gray closing in on approaching Shiver.

Ainslide, the village at the bank of the river Elume, was always a lively place. It stank of blood and doom as Darian rode in on his steed. There, awaiting him at the head of the hill that overlooked the village, was a figure that appeared unerringly clothed in Black Velvet. It held the bracelet that was the heirloom of the Ain Womanshead, the generations of Koria's lineage. Darian wondered what creature could have done this, not in what it actually did, for he knew, as all Warriors of Light do, what Scions of the Dark were capable of. But what made him wonder this was that with the ongoing war, how could any servant of the black be spared the frontlines, that was powerful enough to break through the wards that protected the village. And when he saw the bracelet of AinLeura, he braced himself because he knew that to obtain that heirloom from his beloved Koria, the hooded figure was atleast as powerful as a Brakken ForceLord, and he steeled himself from lingering thoughts as he realised it did not have the Belt of AinLeura, which meant that Koria was still of breath, and was probably in a hidden place.

And without words, they fought. As a Blessed Light warrior and a Cursed Dark knight do when they meet each other, when an enlightened one meets a darkened soul, as it had always been, and how it was always believed to be, without words, they fought. Darian, as any Blessed warrior, especially one of the Noric Host, knew full well what he fought for, the right and the just, the absolute and the enlightening. He knew what he was fighting against. As he had always been taught to believe. The battle was even, and Darian now wondered how Koria was able to escape given the unrelenting nature and prowess of the Scion he was facing. So engrossed was he, that he failed to notice that a Blackedeye had followed him, armed with a Tome of AllGood, the spellbook from which the mages gather their knowledge, handed down to them from the Source of Light.

They fought to a standstill, and then it appeared. The grey shadow at the entrance to the village. Darian prepared to be taken on both sides. But the grey shadow just lifted up a belt and Darian felt a shiver down his spine, it was the Belt of AinLeura, the belt that granted her Protection from the undoing of Breath. The Belt that empowered Koria with the power she wielded as a force of the light. Without it, she was mortal, and it almost guaranteed she was not of breath.
Darian awakened.
His power which had for some reason always been unable to have been unleashed, even by the spells of the LightMages, spewed forth like a wave of warmth engulfing the village entire.
This was unprecedented.
Darian now possessed the power enow to grant him the status of Heavenly Fire.
And as it engulfed him, he realised he could use it, not as a newborn holding a toy for the first time, but as an experienced worker wielding his tool.
The Blackedeye teleported to him and held his arm, helping Darian to control his aura and focus it into himself.

As he prepared to direct it against the grey shadow, a spell was then cast by the dark scion and with it, a mist appeared that revealed the women of the village all held around them, with a mask of black on their faces.

Darian hesitated.
He knew that if he didn't focus this awakened power soon, he would lose it forever.
Darian doubted and fell to his knee.
Letting it go would mean he loses his power forever but it would mean that Koria may be saved.
Would she be really there? Would she be fine? How could the others be saved? How.......
As he thought this, a light flashed.
Darian was blinded.

His eyes blinked, The bodies of the women lay before him. Only one was left standing.

The Blackedeye knew what it had to do.
It knew that the women would be binded by a spell that meant that if one was saved, the others would perish.
It could see through the masks, but couldn't afford to tell Dorian.
Too less time.
And it made the decision that any lightborn would do.
It chose the most amazing, lightfilled face within the group and saved it with its power.
It had to do it quick.
Darian's power was too valuable to be lost.
It made the BEST decision possible for the Light.

Not for Darian.

As the blackedeye watched, Darian stumbled. Darian moved towards the pile of dead bodies slowly.
Darian picked up the body of a woman with her face as plain as sand. Her vacant eyes, breathless body were unremarkable at worst, standard at best.

Darian looked at the Blackedeye, searching for an explanation.

The Blackedeye pointed at the woman that was Of Breath,
Darian knew it was the best for the light.
That the judgement was of the light.
Darian knew what he had to do now.

He turned back to the blank face of his beloved Koria, lay her down on the ground, stood up and released his power.
AT THE VILLAGE.

Nothing was left, it took just a few moments for the Divine Fire that had been awakened in Darian to wipe out the village, and everything in it, including the Blackedeye, its last recorded memory being it had done right by the light.

Darian knew now, the world is not Black and White. And those who had deceived him, would all die.
Dark AND Light.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

I am in Love

I am in love.

I’ve touched her already, felt her hand in mine as we walked down a snowy street
I’ve held her close, under an umbrella as rain poured down close to the bridge over the stream
I’ve looked into her eyes as I said the sweet nothings that one has to say when you’re huddled near a fire.
I’ve danced with her, giggling our way through a slow, clumsy ballroom number
I’ve walked with her, through sunkissed fields of sparse, knee-high wheat and grass
I’ve laughed with her, watching our favourite comedy sprawled on our favourite couch
I’ve whispered in her ears, as we looked across the glass-like lake that stretched before us
I’ve cried with her, sharing her sorrow as she went through a loss in her life
I’ve smiled at her, as she did the wonderful little things that she did so adorably well
I’ve given her a piggyback ride, as we went on a trek together up a mountain
I’ve splashed water at her, as we both ran into the sea with the sun setting in the horizon
I’ve held her up on my shoulders, so that she could see the band performing in the concert better
I’ve waited mock impatiently, as I followed her through the crowded throngs of shoppers in a mall
I’ve fought with her, then apologised and made up with her, over one of the many silly things that life throws at you
I've hugged her hard, seeing her again after i had to leave her side for the short whiles necessary
I’ve fought for her honour, against whoever would stand in her or our way
I’ve been seasick with her, because she wanted to feel the seabreeze from the deck of a seaborne boat
I’ve fed her soup and taken care of her, when she fell sick with one of the maladies of existence
I’ve stared at her while she was asleep, only to close my eyes quickly when she seemed to wake
I’ve cooked her a surprise dinner, after secretly going to one of those cooking lessons that are made for hasty but well meaning guys like me
I’ve lied down next to her, on the side of a hill as we looked up together at the starry night sky
I’ve written songs for her, that I perform as she looks on in a small bar with dim lights and cheap drinks
I’ve covered her with my jacket, on the eve of a wintry, windy day as we walked through the park
I’ve bought her flowers and chocolate on a perfectly droll day, for no reason other than to make her smile
I’ve hid her presents in a secret place, as I pretended to forget her birthday till the last moment
I’ve written her beautiful poems, which even all together could not hope to capture everything that she means to me
I’ve spent restless nights thinking about how I would propose to her in ways that she might never forget

I have done all these things not unconditionally, but because she loves me back too.

I am in love. I just haven’t found out who with yet.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Debunking the myth of Love

Love is an interestingly complex thing. The discussions about it that I’ve had with others, and the experiences I’ve had of my own have led me to believe that you can’t really contain it to one particular definition or one view.

So, here’s debunking a few myths about love.

Note :- This is very much a work in progress. If anyone has suggestions or criticisms, please feel free to comment. I will assess them from my own perspective and edit accordingly.

One : People can fall in love more than once.
Which also debunks, Two : Despite what you might believe after watching Serendipity, there is no one perfect person for you. There may, JUST may, be a person who fits what you look for perfectly, it doesn’t mean squat unless it actually works out that that person likes you back.
Three : There is NO definite path to love, even if you try to narrow it down to just one person. You can fall in love in so many ways and it differs for every person, every time.
Four : Being in love is NOT an emotion. Love is the emotion. Being in love is a state of being where the person chooses to give himself or herself into that emotion. And if two people choose to share that emotion, then it becomes a true romance. Otherwise, its just a relationship. 


Mine Moody Memoirs

Write. Whenever i seem to be stuck on something in life, i have a variety of ways to achieve escapism. One of them is to basically go crazy on my guitar or sing loudly locked up in some (hopefully soundproof) room. Another way is to write. Usually airing semi-dirty laundry on FB. And sometimes, for the more personal issues, on my blog. Which i've been doing a lot of late.

Now, there is a saying 'Emotion is the fuel of creativity'. Well, i think there is. If there isn't, there is now :P
And we humans are pretty emotional creatures. And some of us, like me, are pretty dramatic in a lot of ways. Now, i'm not saying that i'm a traditional dramaqueen. More like a moody, inquisitive, self-aware one (But lets not get into that. Let that be a reference for a future blog post topic. Pin on it. Boop.)
And when i get emotionally moody, and not too much that i can't properly harness it, i do get pretty prolific when it comes to my artistic senses. Now, for the 0.99% of you that might actually be following my blog, you would have noticed that quite a lot of the recent posts have been very...sappy of late. And if you have read those posts, then you'll also pretty much be able to figure out the basic reason for said sappiness.

Its such an interesting thing, what feelings can do to someone. In the creative sense. Words that i have always known, and maybe even used from time to time, combine in shapes and forms i never thought myself capable of thinking up. Instinct over intelligence. And the AMOUNT. The prolificacy with which i have been writing stuff in the recent days has astounded me. In addition to those posts that i have actually, you know, posted, i have drafted several others on similar related topics, which i have chosen, for now, not to post.

And as is evidenced by my current writing, the urge to write has not exactly stopped.
Well, atleast this is a fresh topic.

And it has proved to be a very good coping mechanism. Well, that and you know, actually confronting the subject of those moody emotions. Now, i feel much better about things in general AND those in specific.

I basically told myself (And with some nudging from my best friends), to basically let loose and write whatever came out of my head. Poems, articles, junk, music, lyrics. And its been so affirming.
I WILL probably look back someday and go all 'Yech' and 'Ugh, Cooties' when i read them again, but the fact is, for the time being, for right now, it has helped a huge deal getting them off my chest and onto my blog. And that's the whole point.

I will probably never be able to feel the same way, the same amount that i feel right now ever again. I will DEFINITELY still be my own dramatic self, but with every unique experience, a unique lesson is learnt. And a unique fuel is burned.

So, in conclusion, if you ever feel moody, sappy, emotional, good, bad, positive, negative, happy, ecstatic....LET IT OUT!!!!! You'll never be able to capture the moment again just like it is now.

Note :- You might want to follow my example of drafting it before publishing it first. Everything is good to be put out, but it would probably be best for all concerned if you didn't necessarily publicly post it without prudence :3

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Closure


Closure. If this particular stay in Mizoram has to have a bookmark to remember it by, it would be Closure.

4 women who I have been more than attracted to.
3 women who I been IN love with.
2 women who broke my heart.
1 woman whose heart I broke.
1 stay in Mizoram after 4 years of carrying a weight, albeit a WELCOME weight in my heart.
1 stay in which all 4 stories were given a certain amount of closure. Chapter emphatically closed.

     The first, my first ever crush. In my ignorant innocence, and in my infinite unluckiness, turned out to be my cousin. The first girl I ever revealed my heart to, and the first person who taught me that by calmness and a friendly touch, the storm within can be quelled.
                            Married. To a man who can hopefully give her what she deserves. May their lives be blessed ^_^

     The second, my only solid relationship till date. The first girl I truly fell in love with. The one who returned my love completely. And to date, the only girl who I unknowingly fell OUT of love with.
                            2 years of heartbreak and heart mending, and she can finally look me in the eyes and tell me that she is over me. I will forever feel deservedly guilty, but atleast now she can move on. I pray and I hope, that she finds the man she truly deserves, and who deserves her too.

     The third, the closest to a close call I’ve ever had. The first, and so far only, girl who became one of my closest and most honest friends in this list. The only girl with whom I could completely be myself with. And the first one to break my heart.
                            Finally in a relationship that she seems to be happy and comfortable in. One of her own choosing, and not one thrust upon her. She’d kick my ass if I tried to bless her relationship :3 but I do hope she has made the right choice.

     The fourth, the only girl I have ever truly desired. The ONLY girl I fell in love with first before knowing for sure the person that she was, and falling even deeper in love with after. The girl who desperately makes me want to be more than myself to be able to get her, while at the same time, makes me want to be just myself, because I truly believe that I have become the person I am in my life, for the kind of person that She has become in hers. The girl who made me forget the pain I tried to cover up and who ended up mending my heart while I was searching for others to do the same.
                             Friendzoned. On the phone first. And now, finally, face to face. At the one date I could finally get with her. Not the way I wanted it to go, but the way I planned it to go. Because I wanted to know that I had tried everything, said everything I could to her. In person. (Though, I ended up not doing the one thing she inspired me to think up. The Dramaqueen act ^_^) I have no idea how things are going to be for us from now on, but atleast she now knows exactly where I stand, and I know, for sure, exactly where she stands.
                             
                                  Closure. And for the first time in YEARS, I feel free.

Some people say you can love only once truly in your life. But I’m only 24 this year. And these 4 will always remain in my heart. I may not be IN love with them anymore or won’t be in the future, but I will always, always, love them.

 

Soulbond

The moment of bliss
To share with me in my moment of climax
The surge of feelings in my bosom
Unreplicable, Indescribable
Selfish need to unselfishly yield
And surrender the extravagance of the soul
To one who may experience the supernova
So personal, so intimate
That connection that can be had
And the thread that ties in between
Passion incarnate, lust clutched within
Shadows of dust, bone and flesh
It is the fire that melts us that matters
And shines on in our spirits combined
Years of dull grey and monotone rhythm
For that one moment when our souls may bond
And to find the one who partakes of moment savoured
And after thought remains in mind, heart and soul.

Imperfect Perfection

This is a whimsical post in the sense that I’ve thought about and wrote about in the space of a few minutes.  So basically I’m putting this up on the basis of my current state of mind. So I might quite possibly probably embarrassingly regret putting this up later. Besides, it’s a silly old mouldy topic, one that I may have touched on several times before too, in this blog.

STILL, I’m putting this up.

Now, a fair warning. This is first and foremost a personal post. Based on my personal feelings and my opinion FOR myself. And secondly, this post is about love, specifically about what I think, right now, constitutes my requirements for a relationship. So for anyone not interested in reading a self-obsessed article about one of the oldest and most well documented topics in history, stop reading now.

NOW, quite simply put : I want a woman, and if possible, a relationship with a woman who GETS me. Knows me, understands me and accepts me. Yup. The old cliché. God, this article is so old news. But here’s the catch, I’m actually going to explain how that works.

It seems like a very simple concept, and also a pretty much straight forward one. I assure you, its not.
When people normally say this, they mean it in a very vague sense.
How complicated could it be? Well lets see.

First off, the person has to know me. Which means the lady has to have an idea of who I am with atleast a fair bit of knowledge about what I am, the way I do things, and the things I like too. This suggests a fair bit of socialising (or stalking)
Secondly, the person has to understand me. Understand why I do the things I do, say the things I say and behave the way I do. Again, this means that the person has to have an understanding of me. Also, it would require that the person must atleast be basically similar to me, because only someone who’s got a personality with some common traits with mine could understand me.
Thirdly, and this is the doozy one, the person has to accept me.

So basically, if I know the qualities that attract me to a person, and that person seems to like me back, is that enough?
If I find a girl who’s interested in the things that interest me, can hold a conversation with me and have a fun time with me, and vice versa, shouldn’t that be more than enough?
 Sadly, its still a no.

Again, when people normally use the phrase, I want someone who gets me blahblahblah, it seems like an attempt to seem deeper than the apparent shallowness of saying I want a hot chick or I want someone for their physical attributes but their inner being. BULLSHIT.
Those who know me well, know that I believe that attempting to shun the notion that outside appearance is important is simply not right. Its against nature. Its against the basic primal laws that govern us as living creatures. Do I say that looks alone matter? That the beauty without is most important? NO. But, Looks DO matter.
Initial attraction aside though, should it pose a factor afterwards? Yes, and it does. Look, first off one must have a clear idea about one’s own looks and standards. Not be vain OR humble. I personally know that there are people who consider me fairly good looking, and there are those who just go meh at me. So, if the person looks significantly better than a person of my standard would usually attract, I will obviously feel a bit cautious. NOT intimidated, cautious. How could she like me? What if some Tom Cruise wannabe comes along? Same goes with a person who may seem intellectually forward as compared to oneself.

You HAVE to be attracted to the one you profess to love. That’s how you differentiate love from like, from admiration.

And (this is the part which might be a controversial), for the ones who might not be exactly upto my standard? (I sincerely mean this in the least vain, asshole way possible, BELIEVE me L) For the ones who may completely totally accept who I am?
Then you get the feeling that the person is TOO dedicated, TOO in love with you. And believe me, its not a good thing. Maybe it is for those who want a very simple, straightforward, no-obstacles-smooth-running relationship. NOT for me.

So basically, what I want is imperfect perfection.
Someone who IS like me.
And who may give space for that imperfection, but someone I still love enough to want to improve on the imperfection. And that in turn would affect her the same way too.
A relationship that is natural, that happens to be so damn good, not because the people in it are trying too hard to change things to make it that damn good. But because the people in it are trying their best of their own accord, BECAUSE the relationship is that worth it.

And man, is it f*cking rare.

Want to know why?? Because if you look carefully, It is waaaay too similar to the definition of a perfect friendship. And people will scoff that I’ve got it mixed up.
But I haven’t. Because somewhere somehow, the perfect relationship is also the perfect friendship.

These revelations have basically doomed me to forever be unsatisfied with anything lesser.

To anyone who actually does find this relationship, You are the luckiest two people on the planet. In your own way. Kudos.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Hold 'em Tight, Push 'em Away

I push people away. 2 Specific types of people. The people i want to push away (obviously), and The people i would love to love.

You see, when i tried to take my life all those years back, when i was at the utmost bottom of my life, i was dead inside. I lost my feeling for everything and anyone.

It was as if nothing was real anymore.

Which is the only psychosane way i can explain why i JUMP at "Real" any chance i get now. Whenever i feel something real, especially when its something alien and unexpected, i just dive into it like a Bee to Nectar.

You, my closest friends, anyone i feel any sort of connection with, i rush into stuff. I squeeze you all so hard before even letting you get close enough to me to hug me back.

Because i know its real. And because i know that its something worthable.

But one lesson i've learnt over time, is that something can be genuine, but it doesn't mean it can be shared.

Especially love.

Bullshit, the stuff that they feed people in Romantic novels, Movies and Love songs.

I used to think that if i ever fell in Love with someone, and it was genuine, then it just had to happen. That love was symmetry. That love was poetic justice. That even if it didn't, it was because i didn't find a way to convey the authenticity of my feelings and emotion to the other person.

Cold hard reality is that I may feel something completely real and cling to it like crazy, doesn't mean YOU feel it too. Not because of any fault of mine, or any defect on yours (pfft). But just because. Just because.

Love isn't symmetry, it has to be made symmetry.

I found out with HER, and i've reaffirmed it with YOU. And sometimes, HER much more than YOU, is because i rushed in, took away the wind from the sails because i was so excited at finding something so incredibly fulfilling, something so hauntingly beautiful.

And i end up pushing you all away.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Widen thy Scope, Mizo Fresher!!

Its the end of the educational year/semester, and most people who have just passed out of school have found out how well or unwell they've performed in the most stressful and pivotal moment of their pre-teen years. The time to embark on the collegiate journey has just begun, and now is the time when they flit from one part of the educational spectrum to another, flicking through all the college brochures and filling in College admission forms. Most of these kids would just be happy to get into a decent college, with decent surroundings. A select few, who have probably been preparing long before the exams were even written, are aiming to get into the prestigious and well-known institutions either abroad or local.

But this post isn't about the choices you make in terms of your Degree, your major, or your educational institution. This post is about the attitude and the awareness that i believe many kids, Mizo kids in particular are very ignorant about.

People, I realise that you have been brought up to believe that the decisions you have to make and are yet to make in your life are based on some easily definable factors. I realise that you have been programmed from birth to accept life is lived in a certain way and that the circle of life is very foreseeable. And based on this, you have been left with some very narrow pathways to go down in your life. The traditional Engineer-Lecturer/Teacher-Doctor/Nurse-Government Officer/Worker system is still very much alive in Mizo Culture. Which is why people find themselves confined to the subjects that they choose in College in a very mechanical way.

This is WRONG!!

Look, i'm not trying to point out faults in the Mizo socio-economic upbringing system. In fact, in the present scenario, i completely agree that those particular jobs are probably the most efficient ways to settle down in Mizoram as of now.

What i'm saying, rather is that to limit yourself, if only at the College level atleast, to an archaic and downright boring pathway, is a crime and a shame against the notion of nurturing creativity.

To give a clear example of what i mean, i'm going to compare the Standard Loyola College Mizo Student experience with my own experience when i did my UG there.

Unlike some colleges in North India, in Loyola we directly choose the subjects that we have to major in rather than choose 3 options and confirm by the last 2 semesters. I chose Sociology.
Every year is split into two semesters. And in each semester we have major subjects, which are the common subjects for all Sociology students, and the minor subjects which are choice based and deal with subjects outside of, while still related to Sociology. For example in one semester i chose to take Public Administration while others chose History of Freedom Movement.
Now apart from the core major, there are several extra and intra curricular activities that are compulsory for getting credits. Like the social work related Outreach department, and the Clubs that we have to join.

Now THIS is where it gets interesting. Most kids go through their entire college life just doing the bare necessities to get through college and get a degree, and in doing so, they miss out on a huge part of the college experience. I'm not just talking about the cultural activities or social interactions.

I joined a club called AIESEC when i was in Loyola for the first 2 years. Most people dont even know that such a club exists in Loyola. Even i found out about it after a bit of digging around and contacts i had within the club. My AIESEC experience will forever be one of the defining ones of my life. AIESEC, as it turned out, was a global non-profit organisation that is the second largest after the UN in terms of countries it is active in. We basically dealt with facilitating internship opportunities to people within the AIESEC networked countries. Long story short, i got the chance to interact with a lot of foreigners, a lot of different people from different global backgrounds, took part in national seminars and conferences, while also learning the nuances of being part of the running of an international organisation. I know AIESEC has a murky rep in other cities, but for anyone who is based in Chennai and opines about the conservativeness of the city, AIESEC is a godsend.

In my third and final year, i joined the Loyola Society of Debaters(LSD) and took part in various National Debate competitions and got he experience of travelling to different institutions in India and, again, interacting with various people, not to mention learn the entertaining academic event of Parliamentary Debating.

These were NOT part of my compulsory studies and i could have easily joined a basic club like the Chess club or the NCC and got through the course with minimal effort. But, being a part of those two clubs helped define my perspective and my personality development much more than any other academic venture in Sociology did.
I have become a much more confident person as a result of these experiences, become much better at interacting with people and at my social skills too. I was able to make contact with people from diverse backgrounds and different departments.

And beyond this, there are so many opportunities available in College where one can avail internships or exchange programs and visit various other places and experience unique moments in your college life.
And there are also various academic activities that help build up one's resume if one was interested in it.

Alas, 99% of all Mizo students who i know that have passed through Loyola, not only choose the most basic path, but do not express the desire to explore various avenues in their college venture.

In the upcoming year, i will try my best to encourage every Mizo Fresher who comes to Chennai, to think broader and be open to more options. You don't have to change the destination, but you can make entertaining detours that help make reaching your destination a much more exciting journey.

Monday, April 29, 2013

The Art of Life

Facebook share. Pretty interesting. Got a few likes and a few dissonant comments. Didn't really give much of a thought to it at first. But then when i accidentally clicked the source file and went to the original picture post and saw the nature of comments there, it made me start to think a whole lot more deeper into the symbolism of the picture.

Art, i believe, should never be completely defined by the Artist. The greatest works of art, whether they be paintings, movies or music, are ones that speak to the soul of the audience, visually or aurally, and stir up feelings inside the heart of the viewer. Great art isn't shoeboxed into certain interpretations or opinions, it isn't defined by critics or the artist him/herself. It is experienced differently by everyone who feels it.

And beyond the experience of the gallery, the artist himself cannot shoehorn his piece of art into a particular corner of creativity. Because, when one creates a work of art, one basically makes material what his/her immaterial soul feels at that point. And we as humans, change from moment to moment in how we feel. Therefore, the state of mind and heart that the artist may have been in when he chose to start it, when he is in the process of creating it and when he is done finishing it, can never be truly constant.

This painting was done by Adolf Hitler. Probably the greatest mass-murderer in History, modern or ancient. One of the most reviled figures of all time. So, should this painting be judged as such? As a work of art that is forever tainted by the Jew-hating, Megalomaniacal legacy of its creator?

I think its a nice painting. Gives off a pleasant feel and captures the mood very well. I'm a christian by the way. And i really have no issues with Jews. 

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Explain the Aurality

The Farewell Program for the year 2013 by the Chennai Mizo Welfare Association was held today. The amount of musical talent in the CMWA has noticeably increased to the point that there were 9 people given slots to sing songs, not to mention the 4 songs performed by the live band of the night. Almost all of these songs were Mizo songs, and ranged in musical variety between the traditional mizo songs to the funk and bluesy-rock of the live band. All of the songs were sing-along-able and had catchy, poppy tunes. And in the midst of all this, i performed a Guitar instrumental and an improvised on-the-spot solo to a backing track. Awkward much.

The Instrumental, titled Stellar Sea Shore, was a psychedelic-ish spacey instrumental, which was me putting to sound what Batty describes when he says "I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gateat that climactic final scene in Blade Runner. The jam right after that was based on an 80's style Hard Rock Ballad in E minor scale backing track. It was pretty ok, considering i had written the instrumental just 2 days before the show, and that the jam session was pretty much on the spot, Whitesnake-y feel et all. Feeling pretty ok with myself, i stepped off the stage.

Cue the polite handshakes and smiles of unsure appreciation. But then, the more people kept giving me the line "Didn't really get what it was about, but it was good. You are so talented", the more this thought nagged at me to reply. See, when it comes to the 21st century generation, especially in the mainstream Mizo audience, people just don't GET guitar driven music anymore, whether it be Rock, Metal or otherwise. And the frustrating thing is, they have all the requisites to be able to get it, more than any other generation. More than ever, music in almost every other genre has been influenced by the Guitar in so many ways. And i don't just mean in the collaborations with mainstream rock guitarists like Slash and Santana either. Dubstep, which has taken the world by storm via Skrillex, is a digitised, souped up version of the breakdowns found in more basic, primal forms in Hardcore and Funk metal. Pop music now contains atleast one notable guitar passage in its formula, and Rock itself has evolved AND condensed to the extent that its sub-genres are all unidentifiably clustered into single songs. And the way people feel the songs. People listen to music varied as the Harlem Shake and The A Team, and react to it in the same basic way, the music moves and you move with it.

Now, the million dollar question is this. Why can't people apply the same to Guitar driven music??

Honestly, the reactions to the sounds made by the guitar are probably the ones which are most primal and SHOULD be inherent in all animals, let alone Human beings. The reason why Metal will have as much staying power as Classical Music, though they are centuries apart in conception and propogation, is that it speaks to the core of the psyche. Not just the lyrics, not just the compositions, the music is something which just should BE.

My theory for this? Its because people try to UNDERSTAND it. And its partly the musicians and the scenes' fault. People have to "study" how to play the guitar, "memorise" the scales and modes and "follow" music theory to get the whole contemporary rock scene. Then you have the "technical" metalheads who think that only timing and precision is key. The irony is that the entire Rock and Metal scenes started out being the opposite of all this. It was all about being part of a movement and culture where we could just be ourselves, and portray our innermost socially unacceptable personas. And it didn't have stereotypes to hold it down. Its good to have an identity and some icons to stand out, but music should not be used as a culturally discriminating factor where people HAVE to follow the code, like throwing the horns out or moshing. The music i love, i can dance to, i can gyrate to, i can FEEL. Its not about knowing whats going on in terms of the notes and genres, its about LISTENING to the music, FEELING it and letting it free in you. Think of it as waves and motion, as rays of light and walls of sound. The brain-y part is also important, such as the lyrics, the concept, etc, but the HEART is where it is at.

Don't try to make sense of music, Try to empathise. Picture it, Imagine it, Reach out to it, and let it envelop you.

(Btw, for those who may be interested to check the performance out : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi8WeIG1nxM)

Friday, March 29, 2013

Mizo Prodigals

This post is not going to go into much details and is written in the same manner as how it played out in my heart as i wrote it. Therefore, i must state that there was much more thought and experience that went into the writing of this post than is apparent in the actual writing of it. If anyone has any question or would like to query further please feel free to ask.

Hi,

    Michael's the name, Michael Lalrinkima Pachuau to be exact. How do you do? I'm a seemingly well balanced young male who somehow made it to the age of 24 (running as of now) through a series of twists and turns, ups and downs. I was born and have been brought up in the state of Tamil Nadu. I am a Mizo tlangval, with my father hailing from Lunglei and my mother from Aizawl.

And I am a Mizo Prodigal.

What is that you ask? Well its a term i coined during the nascent years of Orkut when i was busy getting acquainted with the nuances and intricacies of Social Networking. Back then, i was still not comfortable hanging out or making friends with people in my local community, not to mention the Mizo community. I was socially awkward, clumsy and very withdrawn. Since then, i have socially 'blossomed', become adept with the art of looking confident and making acquaintances. I have made bonds of true friendship and have become much more articulate and outgoing.

And I am still a Mizo Prodigal.

I still haven't defined it yet, you say? Oh i'm sorry, i seem to be straying from the point. But then you see, the term mizo prodigal is a condensation of the earlier two paragraphs.
A Mizo Prodigal is a Mizo person who was born and brought up, or spent the majority of his/her life, outside of our native state of Mizoram and feels a sense of disconnectivity with the Native Mizo people and society. From Personal experience, this is apparently not a phase in life. It is more like a stamp that is certified and felt in the inside of our hearts even if it isn't visible from the outside.

I don't regret a thing in the way i have lived my life. Besides it being against my personal code to do so, everything that i am, all the pieces and blocks that make up who i am are made up from all the unique experiences i have had as an outsider in both worlds. In many ways, my vai upbringing helps me to gel with much more types of people than a normal mizo upbringing may have afforded me. I would go so far as to say that settling down seems more natural outside of mizoram than in it.

Don't get me wrong, i know and accept that i will always be a Mizo, no matter where i was born, who i grew up with or what i plan to do later on. And i am proud of us as a people and as a culture. I WISH i was able to write and express myself in Mizo with the same ease as i do so in English. I WISH i was able to have the bonding experiences that growing up in such a close-knit society as ours provides. I even WISH i was able to have gone through the whole Sunday School-Thalai Pawl-YMA socialisation process, just so that i could understand what the fuss is all about. I WISH i knew how to dance the mizo dances, hit the bamboos during the cheraw and play the traditional games.

But at the same time, i have to confess, AGAIN from personal experience. This feeling of disconnectivity goes way beyond mere cultural awkwardness. It is a result of a social and psychological gap and pressure. And it is VERY mutually applied, not a one way snob train like many 'mizoram seilian' people assume it to be.

If anything, my second-last stay in Mizoram gave me an experience that reassured me that there is a sense of disparity in our worlds even among the 'enlightened' social strata. I was attending the North East Writer's Meet which happened at Aijal Club where noted writers and poets from the North East had been invited to read out excerpts from their works and could discuss and chat about them too. As i reached a bit late, i caught only the last few lines of a poem that were being read out by a Mizo poet who goes by the nom de guerre of Sanga Says. I didn't listen to it long enough to know what exactly it was about, but what will stay etched in my memory is that of the Question and Answer session right after the reading, where one of the attendees, a local writer whose name i have forgotten, basically asked him two questions. Weren't you born and brought up in Shillong? What makes you think you understand the problems of Mizo people and Mizoram in general? The fact that this person was also another writer who was reading out his material on the day, and that he was apparently the editor of a popular local zine made the condescending tone of his questions bite even harder. Sanga Says wasn't even based out of the North East for crying out loud.

Its a bubble. And it sometimes feels like a non permeable one.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Fade to Black

Today marks the passing of a month since the death of our flatmate and friend, Nadia. For reasons that will probably be forever unknown, she decided to take her life just 2 days before what would have been her 21st birthday, in the most traditional of ways - A rope around her neck.

And for the past month, i have been quietly disgusted. Not at the fact that she 'chose the shortcut' or that 'she was too weak to face her problems'. But at the way people whisper and prod at her memory after her untimely demise. And yes, it includes close family members. Both mine and hers.

Our fathers were both in the same line of work and thats how we knew each other. You see, kids like us, especially those whose family doesn't have a family home in the state their fathers are assigned, spend our childhoods following our father's postings. These start at the rural areas and move towards the larger cities as seniority is attained. So we basically do not have a stable childhood, or people to grow up with, that may be considered childhood friends. The only kids we ever have a somewhat solid chance of befriending semi-long term are other officers kids. And even then, since no two officers follow the same pattern of transfer and posting continuously, its a very broken connection. Still, seeing a familiar face from time to time was of great comfort at times especially in the more barren regions. Nadia's family and ours have had the chance to stay in close quarters 5 times throughout. If i remember correctly, this is the most times we have kept contact with any other family. We were never the closest of friends, though there was a long period of time (almost a year) where due to the lack of any other distractions we spent some really interesting moments together, as pairs of siblings. Our youngest siblings, both being boys of a similar age, were the ones who were really able to strike a proper friendship. But this too wore off as time went on, as Nadia's younger brother went into less physical avenues of recreation while my brother was the opposite.

Nadia was a really nice person. Though she was never the sporty type, she was always lively. We had our own interests and relative hobbies, but she was the type that could jump into any group outing or activity. She was apparently above average in her studies and was good at making friends with people. She was quite on the thin side when it came to her looks, she even used to joke about having an Olive Oyl figure. By the time we were neighbours again though, she had withdrawn a bit and was a little more reserved, though this was pretty natural for any teen growing up and going through her latter stage of teen development. The last time we actually met was about a week and a half before the fateful day. It was a chance meeting at the Mall, she was with her college mates, she looked perfectly happy.

Its always the ones who look perfectly happy. They're the ones which hit the hardest. Because its that much more difficult to explain why and how it happened. Its like what Heath Ledger's Joker said in the seminal Superhero movie The Dark Knight Rises - "When things go according to plan, no one cares. When things don't go to plan, everyone loses their minds". The truth is, most people who are on the verge of the edge of hope in life tend to cover up their darkness with as much light as possible. Both for the sake of keeping it hidden, and for the sake of not hurting unnecessary bystanders and passers-by. Its the ones who everyone think look the happiest, sunniest and most cheerful, that walk the tightrope of tension, standing on the edge of the terrace or roof, looking down day after day at the inconsequential pitter patter of life oblivious to their existence, when no one else is looking or around.

People question the motives of the suicidee, contemplating what catastrophic event could have lead to such a hasty, drastic decision. But the truth is, when you're already on the edge of the cliff, it doesn't take much more than a rough breeze to push you down the vortex of death. By the time you're up there gasping for air, looking at the emptiness surrounding you, the wide chasm of darkness that lies in front of you looks very inviting. The promise of a new, unsure darkness can be a very viable alternative to the familiar blinding light. Some of us are able to find a thread of hope, an anchor to hold onto life and build up from then on, and some of us choose to dive headfirst into the swelling unknown. This may be blasphemous to say/write/think, but we'll never truly know who made the right choice until the end result for both is finally revealed in its entirety, when the curtain of death covers both in its call.

The most disturbing/disgusting comments are those that talk about how much of a "disgrace" for the family it is. When they question how she could kill herself when she had 'everything that a child could want'. Maybe they're nervous as fellow parents trying to cover up the holes in their own families and parenting styles, but it was so fricking obvious that she did NOT have 'everything a child could want'. At least not THIS particular "child".
What right do we have to judge the life trials of the dead? What justification do we have for criticising the choices of a person dead and gone? So what if he or she killed him/herself. I know, especially from a Christian viewpoint, that it kind of limits the choice of afterlife destinations. But why do we wonder so negatively about the person ESPECIALLY when we didn't give a damn about him/her when they were alive. Well, atleast not enough of a damn to notice that the person was on the verge of taking their life.

The living have no control over the dead. And so they try to cope with the memory of the person left behind.

Tarnish not, the faint memoir,
Blacken not, the fair portrait,
For in the end, all is the same,
Life is lived, and Dead is Death.


Eyes on the back of my head

The title of this post is normally used to describe a sixth sense that some people have which gives the eerie feeling that they can see everything thats going on, even things that are done behind their back. But in the context of this post, i'm using it to describe the feeling of having eyes looking AT the back of my head.

I hate the part of me that bothers about how people look at me. Not all the time. Just when i want to write something from the bottom of my heart.
Like now, when i blog.
It never used to bother me when i blogged before, but recently my posts have been getting some unprecedented attention. Its not like i've become an e-celebrity or anything, more like my previously obscure blogs have been brought a bit more into the public light.

This is NOT a post against the people who have been reading, sharing or recommending my blog. And i fully accept that i was the one who opened up my blog to a more public viewing. I appreciate all the views, all the comments and feedback. My day is made just that much brighter when i notice that more people have read my blog, or *gasp*commented on it (Er, not that i keep a track of it....everyday...":-D)

This IS a post against that part of me which i believe everyone has their own version of. My own little prima donna. The diva that lives in everyone's hearts. That little voice in our heads that makes you re-think what you're doing or saying with the audience in mind. Again, i do not hate this part of me all the time. In fact, i admit that it is a very useful part of me/us, especially in this socially networked world where a little comment can go a long way to making/breaking a person's reputation.

But i don't need it yapping away when i want to pour out my heart on a subject. Its like having a dam built on the river of my soul, draining the reckless abandon with which my creativity is fueled. I need to overcome it. I need to yank off the yoke of sobriety which i automatically put on when i feel someone is watching me.
This isn't Facebook. This isn't a social networking site, where our pictures and posts and likes are all posted to be put under public scrutiny. This is my Blog. Over the past 2 weeks, i have drafted around 4 posts that i just can't seem to properly finish or continue, because i'm afraid that i might write/post them with my censorship mode still on. I DONT want to post some accessible popular culture shit. I WANT TO POST MY LIFE, ME, MY THOUGHTS, MY SOUL.

This ends NOW. Begone, you Balrog that haunts the Moria of my blog. Begone you shadow of fire and flame. In the words of Gandalf the Grey,

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!

Friday, March 8, 2013

Musical Euphoric Reverie - A Headbanger's Post

I Love This Pic!!
                                 Allow me to indulge myself with a bit of vanity for a moment.


This pic brings back so many good memories.
First off, it was probably the best overall performance we had ever given as a house band.
Secondly, I took a few risks that i had never taken before. The guitar wasn't mine (Scarlett wonked out on me), and the strings were pre-attached right before the show which means they would be prone to falling out of tune and tuning. The "top button exposed shirt" look was one my mom forced on me at the last moment before we went up on stage. I played an impromptu unrehearsed guitar solo and extended the normal one of my own accord.
Thankfully the guitar worked fine, the shirt didn't look as embarrassing as i thought it would and the guitar solo was apparently not bad at all.

But what i love most about this pic is that it is a 100% Money Back guarantee spontaneous pic. Yup, i'm not posing in the pic.
I wasn't even aware the pic was being taken while i was playing the guitar and i did not position myself perfectly in front of the mic, my head bent back at an almost perfect angle while playing the guitar in an off hand manner. Yes, this is probably the best pose i will ever strike, knowingly or unknowingly, for a camera ever and it was me, not me trying to be some cool looking badass with a guitar. It was just me.

But this post isn't about this pic per se, it isn't about how good my ego is shined up in describing how i look in this pic of full on RockSt*r awesomeness (Which it is >_<) {Vanity : Off}

This post is about WHAT i was feeling as i unconsciously posed for this pic. Because what i was feeling then was not just an emotion. It was a statement of Life.

People talk about how they love music and how music affects their lives. I believe this is true for all human beings who have a sense of hearing. No matter who you are or what type of person you are, there is going to be some piece of musical work that will move you in a way no other media or drug can. True music is one that moves the listener in some way. It doesn't have to be an earth shattering effect, it can be a slight tap on your shoulder making you smile or think in a small measure. It can uplift you, bring out a moment of happiness and bliss or it can focus your rage, stand for every cut, scar and bruise you've ever had and help you overcome sorrow. (Which is why i believe music should be divided according to moods, as well as genres. But thats a topic for another post :D)

It isn't a feeling exclusive to musically inclined people, or people who would consider themselves music literate. You don't need to understand how the music is made to enjoy it, or to be an avid, rabid fanboy to understand that the music can make you groove.
BUT i will admit that being a musician gives us an insight that most people would not understand. Especially in the genres of Rock and Metal. I'm not saying that we feel MORE for the music, we just feel it differently at times. Something metaphorical and primal.

The feeling you can get as you're up on the stage and you GET IT RIGHT is unparalleled. You feel this surge of feeling and electricity and you just want to channel it out any way you can. Its like being in an ecstasy filled cloud and everything around you just dies down and its between you and your instrument. And its like this mist is around you, this mist which starts to engulf you and reaches out to the crowd, and when it envelops the audience, and they start reacting to your music, its like you've made a connection. Like you're channeling all the emotion from your soul to their ears. It may last just a few seconds, but in those few moments, it is Nirvana. Every stretch of the muscle feels powerful, every signal through your nerves is like a bolt of lightning and every right note is like a shot of adrenaline. There is no logical explanation for why it affects us the way it does. It just does. And those moves you've seen on those 80's and 90's MTV/Vh1 vids?? The way those guys seem to be 'pouring the sugar on' or 'riding the lightning'?? Those happen naturally. Obviously, we would love to look as cool as Slash when he rips through the November Rain solo, but without TRYing to look like a rockstar, those movements just naturally happen, as if its what the universe deemed the right way to rock out.

And balls to anyone who exclusively associate narcotics and intoxicators with it. I was stone cold sober, but i still felt drunk as hell. And i loved it. Love it. Will always Love it.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Blogging - We are Human here.

I love the concept of blogging. There are certain additions to the technology at hand that i can imagine would improve the overall experience (like sifting through and recording the thoughts from our heads directly onto the blog :3), but i love the fact that i can have my own little Digital Space in the Internet which houses my opinions, thoughts, ramblings, poems or whatever random thing i want to put on here. It lets me put off steam  on burning issues that probably matter little or nothing to anyone but me. Everyday occurences or Once in a lifetime experiences that seem noteworthy at the time for us to make the effort to keep a record of it in cyberspace.

And the truth is, somewhere in my heart, i hope that it would matter to some random other. That my experiences and views put on digital paper would be able to serve as a guide or as an inspiration to anyone who might happen to stumble on to my corner of the World Wide Web. Yes, all bloggers are philosophers at heart. Its not so much that we are self-assured or self-confident, rather that we give ourselves assurance and confidence that if we could actually pull out stuff from the pandora's box inside our heads and write something even vaguely coherent, we have accomplished a great achievement in our personal lives.

Certain People i know, are of the assumption that one of the main appeals of keeping a blog is the holier-than-thou persona we can assume under the guise of our digital nicknames. And in some sense, that is true. Especially to the outside eye, when a blogger truly unleashes his/her viewpoint on an issue, it gives off the aura that we are playing God in our blog. That a blog, especially a private or obscure one, lets us leave our inhibitions behind to show our true colours. And in that sense, all bloggers are egotists, atleast just a teensy little bit. And we all have the right to be. As humans, that is one of the seminal personality traits that is not approved of by the vast majority of societal human beings, that we can express completely and inconsequentially in our blogs.

BUT does that make us God? Having our piece of the universe that revolves and spins around our control, surely it can seem we have a divine control over the matter that permeates it. But the truth is, its not. Under our control. I believe, belief being the key word here, that we let our hearts, souls and minds bare here. That no matter how ordered or calculated our posts seem to be, we are all driven by the formless base sense of being a Human being. Psychologists will forever debate on what exactly it is that makes humans, well, humans. What is the exact thing that seemingly divides our psyches from other social organisms around us. Whether it is Unification Thought or Empathy or whatever other psychological construct it may be though, what i can say without a shadow of a doubt is that Blogging is one of the defining behaviours of a Human being.

We bare our minds, souls and hearts here. In whatever little way it may seem to be. In whatever overly dramatic, blown up reverie we seem to be in. If ever i question myself on the nature of my humanity, i will look upon my blog, that which i have written for NO reason, for NO logic, for NO gain or accolades and see myself, naked and pure (Shame, the same can't be said of questioning my sanity though >_<)

Ironic isn't it. That one of the things that so surely, positively affirms the warmth and organic existence of my human soul exists in cold, emotionless Computer Code.

  

Sunday, February 17, 2013

I'm still not over you

 I asked you out on a date. You politely declined. I wrote you a letter and confessed my crush. You politely rejected it. I asked you whether you could ever look at me in a different way other than being a friend. You politely, directly, emphatically, felicitously, laconically said no. This all happened in the space of almost two months. The last event happened nearly two weeks ago. And i have tried hard to adjust to the role i have been given. Of being friendzoned, yet again.

 It didn't seem like that big a problem. In a lot of ways, you make for a good friend. You get my humour, which is always a big thing with me. You get the jokes, the subtle jabs and the ironic sarcasm i use. You react very pleasingly to situational jokes that i build up to. Most people i know wouldn't even last the building up part. We share a lot of common interests, though not necessarily in actual interests, rather categories of interests to a certain degree. Like movies, serials, comics, music, etc which you don't mind talking and discussing about. And you're also a brilliant Whatsapp companion, due to the aforementioned qualities and your penchant for choosing appropriately humorous smileys.
And, it isn't as if i've never been friendzoned before. I have. Quite a few times actually. In fact, a friend of mine once called me 'Mr. Friendzone', and proclaimed that if God ever chose to make a guy with all required qualities needed for a guy to be friendzoned, he just had to take me and throw out my sarcastic and anarchic tendencies. My experience with the matter is so high, that i saw all the telltale signs of a potential friendzone situation about to happen, before i even wrote my letter of confession. In many ways, i was already preparing myself to follow the same routine i had followed in the past, when a girl i might have liked took a needle to the balloon of romantic possibilities, before i sent you the letter. The only thing that surprised me at the end of the whole debacle, was that you could so nicely and genuinely ask me to continue being friends, despite having all the justification in the world to cut me off and label me as a neurotic stalker freak.

And so, by the time a week had passed, i believed we were well on our way to establishing a totally platonic relationship. And, to seal the deal, i started opening myself, or rather, forcing myself to look for other prospects to occupy my time. This isn't meant to sound anywhere near being Casanovic (Ooh look at that!! I made a new word!! Lets call it blog author's license. Casanovic - Having Casanova-like tendencies), because with all sense of self-respect, uh, i'm not, will not, and, for all sense and purpose, CAN NOT be a Casanova, even if i tried. Rather, anything and everything that could fill up my time, hobbies, entertainment, even work/studies, i gobbled up as much as possible. I even started engaging in conversation with people i hadn't or wasn't able to give much time or thought to before.

It was around then that i started talking to a particular girl, with whom i had had the pleasure of meeting once, very fleetingly, in Aizawl. She had become acquainted with my mother and brothers during a brief stay in Chennai while i was keeping my father company in Aizawl. We contacted each other through Facebook and built up a nice rapport. She was cute, very impulsive and was very nice to engage conversation with. She, like me, had a flair for searing sarcasm and acerbic satire. At some level, there may even be a mutual attraction. This rapport shifted seamlessly from digital conversation to auditory conversation and we started talking about relationship related topics. She sardonically offered to set me up with one of her friends and we even engaged in a bit of playful, innocent mock-flirting.

But then it happened. Fully aware i was just kidding around with her, and i'm sure she was too, i suddenly stopped the flow of conversation and, for no particular reason, told her that it wasn't possible for me to date anyone at the moment. Her curiosity aroused, and my tongue already set loose by our warm-up conversations, i went into a 5-minute long unscripted, unprovoked, unprepared explanation of my personal code of ethics when it comes to relationships, and how i was very awkward at focusing on more than one person at a time, especially when my feelings for the other person was muddling up my every other thought.

ESPECIALLY WHEN MY FEELINGS FOR THE OTHER PERSON WAS MUDDLING UP MY EVERY OTHER THOUGHT.

Funny how those moments of self realisation can creep up on you when you least expect them to.
It was like a stamp on to my consciousness from the sub-consciousness.

For Some Reason
For Some Unknown Reason
For Some Unknown Possibly Bizarre Reason
You were not being forgotten
You were not being marginalized in my thoughts
You were/are different than the others  i have ever had to go through the situation with.
(Cue - The Rasmus' Not Like the Other Girls in the background)

It doesn't even make sense that you are, for the same exact reasons it didn't make sense that i had started obsessing so much with you in the first place. We never met enough times to establish a physical (And i don't mean in a sexual way) connection. The few times we actually did meet, were probably the furthest thing from romantic interludes that two people can have while still forging a bond of some sort. You aren't, in the classic sense of the word, the most 'beautiful', 'pretty' or 'sexy' crush i have ever had (though this has NEVER been a criteria for my feelings towards women, the only reason i even mention these qualities is because i'm trying to find an equitably shallow reason for having a shallow crush). I don't know nearly enough about your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your quirks and qualities to proclaim a 'deep' and 'introspective' connection with your personality.

It doesn't make sense that i always imagine your stuttering laugh as you read a good joke, more so when its one of mine.
It doesn't make sense that i always imagine your eyes looking back up at me like you did when you were walking down the stairs before me when we went out the one time,
It doesn't make sense that i always think about you randomly being an airhead, and how i would love to be there when you run into a wall, and how i would rub your head and ask if you were alright with a wide smile on my face.
It doesn't make sense that i imagine how uncomplicated being in a relationship with you would be for both you and me, how nothing would need to change in how comfortable we were with each other before and after being in the relationship.
It doesn't make sense that i imagine all those sneaky, romantic tricks and surprises that i would be able to pull on you and how you would love them.
It doesn't make sense that i secretly believe that i could carry all your burdens and problems and would love to be the first person there for you if you ever needed somebody.
It doesn't make sense that i secretly hope that you would be able to deal with all my bullshit and be the person that i need, my muse, my cornerstone.
It doesn't make sense that i wonder how a first kiss would be, not to mention the 100th. Of course, it plays out perfectly in the theatre stage of my mind.
It doesn't make sense that i wonder how walking with you would be like, would we hold hands? Would we have that aura of warmth that all couples who are infected with the amphora of love seem to have as they stay within inches of each other, no physical contact needed to convey the security of having the person you love right next to you.

It doesn't make sense, even though it makes perfect sense. Even though i know, this is how crushes are supposed to be. Even though i know, that this is all me making stuff up in my head. Even though i know, that all i'm doing is writing an imaginary romance novel in my head, and not a good one at that either.
It doesn't make sense, with all my previous experiences and stoneheaded nature that i can fall into this trap one more time.
It doesn't make sense, with my brooding nature, my defeatist outlook and nihilistic tendencies, that i would still be so persistent with this flame, this flicker of a possible mutual emotional connection.

Is it that i have become more shallow as my teenage youth slips further away when it comes to matters of the heart? More easily susceptible to falling deeper into the pit of prospective love? More impulsive and stubborn than ever?

Whatever the reason, No matter how pathetic and hopeless it makes me look and whatever step i take from here on in, No matter how embarrassing this might/will be to remember and read again in the future, the fact of the matter is this. That, right now, without a shadow of a doubt, I, the sarcastic, cynical, anarchic me,

I AM SO NOT OVER YOU!!

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Rules of Engagement (Work in Progress)

This is NOT a how-to guidebook!!
I do not proclaim to be a person well versed in the art of starting, maintaining or even breaking up a relationship and i do not profess that these rules are the be all, end all of all Date related rules.
But these are the basic rules i personally believe in and try my best to adhere to when it comes to Dating and all that is related to them.

Note :- For archiving purposes mainly and is put up more for personal reasons rather than a public manifesto.

APPROACHING SOMEONE/ASKING SOMEONE OUT ON A DATE :-

1. This should NEVER happen if you're in a relationship or even in a semi-relationship, ie, even if you are not talking to each other, as long as the relationship ties are not broken.
2. Make sure the other person is not in a relationship or in a semi-relationship. You can never be 100% sure, but make sure you cover all possible bases before you make a push.
3. No matter how much you think you've fallen in love with her or are attracted to her, ALWAYS ask her out on a date before all else. Firstly, 99% of the time its just a crush, not love, and Secondly, if its truly worth it, better to start it off right.
4. If she rejects your Date proposal, take it like a man and don't push it much. Take at least a week off to cool down and re-assess things and if you still can't stop thinking about her, tell her about your dilemma. If she's willing to go out the second time around, good for you. If not, then back away, for both your sakes.
5. If the girl happens to be directly related to one of your friends, notify the friend for sure, either before you approach the girl, or at least right after you have approached the girl. Do NOT try to hide it, and do NOT try to delay it.
6. If the girl happens to be directly/indirectly connected to an ex-girlfriend or flame, inform her after you've tried approaching her. unless you have been specifically asked by the girl not to inform the ex, and that too for a legitimate reason.

GOING OUT ON DATES :-

1. The First Date should be a hands off affair whose purpose is to test the waters, and verify your feelings for each other, NOT a kop-a-feel-first-chance-you-get debacle.
2. The venue must be a place where both of you will be comfortable preferably, and if that cannot be arranged, her comfort must be given importance.
3. If possible, PAY for at LEAST the food and most amenities on the first date.
4. Picking her up is preferable, but Dropping her back is ESSENTIAL, unless a major catastrophe takes place. This counts whether the date was a success or not.
5. Pay can be shared from 2nd/3rd Date Onwards.


Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Blessed Curse

  For me, to Fall in Love with Someone would mean to achieve a state of being, where your heart and soul are devoted, at least partially, to a person of the other sex (in my case, female) due to various factors, physical and mental attraction being two of the foremost of them and which goes beyond just an initial surge of hormones and curiosity, and that is most genuinely tested by time and perseverance. To Fall in Love with Someone doesn't always lead to the opportunity to love that someone, much less to BE loved back by that someone.

  It is a Blessing that i can say that i have experienced Falling in Love, Being Loved and Having been Loved. It is also My Curse to say those same exact things.

  To those who underrate the power of the emotion of Love, to those who scoff at the notion of Romance, believe you me, when you fall into it, there is no pit deeper, no mountain higher, no cliff steeper than the chasm you will feel open inside of you. A tornado of feelings that swirl around you as you sit in the middle of the eye of the storm, the wind filled with cheesy cliches, emphatic achievements and unforgettable moments. You will be driven to perform feats you only ever dreamt of doing, you will be pushed to perform actions that challenge everything you ever thought you knew about yourself and you will be both stronger and more vulnerable than you have ever been.

  When you achieve that Nirvanic moment when all three come together, you enter a period of Bliss where everything you thought that was right about the world will seem to just show up on your doorstep, and every small event that involves you and your partner will be given an added touch of Destiny. Every action you do, every commitment you make and every resolution you adhere to will all turn out perfectly how you want them to. Every movement your partner makes, every moment you spend together will be Perfect. You will understand each other completely, you will learn more and more amazing things about them and when you're with them, you will feel that you are the closest to being perfect than you have ever been or ever will be. Dreams will be shared, Objectives will be re-assessed and Schedules will be combined. Even when you're not with them, you will think about them, and how everything around you seems to have some quality that reminds you of them.

  The feelings, emotions, events and moments you will go through during this period are completely original, unique and irreplaceable. In short, you will never have the same experience more than once. Similar maybe, but never the same.

  And as i have experienced all these things, i have been cursed that i will forever remember these things even as life mundanely starts over again, day by day, moment after moment. Even after that someone has left or been left, even after your separation has been finalised with conviction and stamped down by the spectre of distance. Even after hate starts entering life, along with cynicism and negativity, nothing will ever truly compare to the rush that is had when you are in Love. How will i deal with it? Will i shut myself off from the world, resigned to the fact that i shall never replace those feelings again? Will i pursue it in other avenues, desperately seeking that elusive ambrosia. forgetting everything else along the way? I don't know yet, I'm still seeking it out....

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Intrusion of Privacy - The Blitz Invasive

Previous Acquaintance serves as the Invitation Card
Distilled Beverage plays the role of icebreaker

In a moderately lit, medium size, mediocre inn
So near and far from our homes, both the departed one
And the other soon to be arriven.

I do not keep close watch, nostalgia grips me.

Three in number, Modest in clothing
Smiles wide, arm stretches out in clasp of friendship
Caretaker welcomes the welcome faces

That provide a vague memory of companionship past
And of ones mayhap be forged anew.

I notice them, interest unpiqued.

Consumption of intoxication, with froth and frolic
Recount Tales of times past and forgotten
Some are vivid, others probably hallucinated
As sharpness of mind dulls with passage of time
Appendages under it are set more free.

I survey them, lopsided thoughts asunder.

The Seed are proclaimed, vaunted and touted
Of large girth and Smart build,
A blessing from Jehovah and continuation of legacy
Attention is turned to the fledglings of the nest
Appearances are straightened to please.

I smile at them, half attention turned to future joy.

Eyes glint and Smiles Widen,
"Yes, the growth seems good and the height seems right
But what lays out may cover soft inside", he proclaims
And changes direction of face to mine
Partakes another sip of declining wine.

I frown at him, focus shifts to his active pose.

Dark silhouettes alone remembered,
Not a line of face or impression of features
Not even the size or depth of body figure
As elder hand darts out a sudden
And catches the collar with a jerk

I squirm, thrown upon false hope of comfort.

Laughter abounds as shoulders are pinned down
Boozen breath encompasses all smell
And hand stretches down to lower tunic
Clasping metal key to portal of privacy
And pulls sharply down to pry open

I grimace, small smile hides growing fear.

PRIVACY VIOLATED, NO WARNING WAS GIVEN.
INVASIVE BLITZ, NO SHIELD WAS SET UP.
MANHOOD REVEALED, IN ALIEN GRASP.
CAUGHT OUT AND PULLED UP, PUT ON DISPLAY
THE AIR IS COLD, THE TOUCH IS CHILLING
BLOOD RUNS COLD, SHAME GROWS QUICKENING.
TEST OF MASCULINITY,
PROBING OF SANITY,
THOUGH THE MOMENT IS FLEETING,
HIDDEN HATE LASTS ETERNITY!!

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Shuffle and Sweep!

Time slows down, Surroundings blur, Noise gets zoned out and your body goes limp in the arms of 'The One' as he hoists you and carries you into the sunset. Congratulations you have just been swept off your feet. And Congratulations, you're a Drama Queen.

Now now, before you call me a fuddy duddy unromantic stick in the mud, i have nothing against this particular scene. If two people are actually able to enact this scene naturally, and share a special moment in their lives, more power to them. I personally would love this happening to me in the future, though how long i can hold the lucky damsel (or is that unlucky) in my arms would be a predicament.
What i do have an issue with, is that people, and not just women, believe that it is some sort of stamp of approval for 'the relationship'. Some even take it to mean its a sign of a romantic story that ends with a Happily ever after. I've been in two relationships and both had similar circumstances and moments played out. Take note that the last sentence was written in the past tense.
Are you sure that you want to stake the entirety of a relationship, with its complexities, little nitpicking moments, misunderstandings and adjustments, on one sole, admittedly special moment? No matter how perfect its played out?

While men obviously want to make the best impression on women and will try their best TO sweep them off their feet, i think i can say on behalf of most men, we'd be pretty happy with just a shuffle of the feet in our general direction. It doesn't even have to be a confident pitter-patter of excitedness. A nervous, clumsy stumbling shuffle is many a times more comfortable for the guy himself, who isn't exactly in his comfort zone either. When you think about it, how can he be? When his actions and demeanour are measured against the standards of such stalwarts like Clark Gable, James Dean, Brad Pitt, Richard Gere and Hugh Grant.

Men truly interested in a relationship are not looking for an instantaneous 100% satisfactory response. The woman that looks dreamily into the eyes of a guy she doesn't even know that well, and says she loves him just because he gave her one special moment doesn't sound overtly healthy.
Contrary to popular belief, we can actually play the deep, patient, understanding partner if given the chance. But to do so, we would like a little nod to show us the way. It doesn't have to be an obvious signboard with blinking fluorescent lights, just a little sign of approval that can make us feel like we're not obsessed stalkers as we go about dedicating our life, piece by piece to another human being who hopefully shares her life too.

I AM a romantic. I believe in the whole old school Chocolates, Flowers and Walking hand in hand through a Garden shtick. But i have to admit, the whole sweeping off the feet thing is an impossible situation, the way most women imagine it to be. The 'right guy' does not just pop out of the blue, the Knight in Shining armor doesn't always come riding in a White Horse. Sometimes by the time he arrives, he's removed his armor, thrown away the sword and shield and gotten off his horse so that he can stand face to face with his princess, and feel her touch as he hugs her passionately. And most of the times he's a person you've already known in your life, but never looked at in a certain way.

Sometimes the feeling of getting swept off your feet doesn't happen with a guy in a tux and a girl in a gown in a perfectly lit evening with a romantic background and gasping cheering onlookers. Sometimes it happens as you sit side by side watching a show together, as you walk in a crowded street with the guy making way for the girl.
Sometimes, the sweeping off of the feet comes AFTER your relationship is solidified and you know that you can truly trust the person you are standing with, or hovering in the air in his arms with. And in many ways, that can be THE most special way of being swept off your feet.

Note : This is just me rambling on, not self-referential at alllll >_>

Dear Bette Davis Eyes



I know that this probably won't ever reach you. I also know that even if it did, its probably redundant considering the fact that my feelings for you aren't exactly a secret to you, or to a certain few friends of ours. But even though i did say i really liked you, and you acknowledged it, i never really got to explain the way i feel or how these feelings came to be. I'm not overemphasizing it, i know that this is probably just a crush because we barely got to meet that much (even though the few times we did were an unexpected pleasure) and we both don't even know that much about each other, the nuances and subtleties that make a person who he or she is. I also realise that this, being a crush, is probably just the product of a fervent heart and feverish mind and the way i look at you or portray you here is purely from my feelings. But i do know that these feelings are strong, atleast for now, and it helps me when i get these things off my chest and mind, atleast onto a written form, no matter how embarrassing they might turn out to be later on. So, here it is, my mind, soul and heart laid bare at this particular moment, for this particular experience in my life.

I don't know when the exact moment i started finding you attractive was. A little secret is that i found you adorably cute back when we first met, with your shy nature and sweet smile and your few extra pounds. But back then, and i'm not saying this just to excuse myself, it would take me another 2 years to actually develop the maturity to be truly attracted to a girl, lady or woman in a not-so-innocent way and if i am to be entirely honest here, i was in the middle of a childhood crush at the time.
Maybe it was when we met each other again out of the blue after such a long time, and how we didn't recognise each other until our parents started talking to each other. Maybe it was when we had a reunion of sorts over coffee with our mutual friend and your sister.

What i do know for sure, though, is the exact moment that you hit me like a ton of lead bricks falling from the sky and left me completely dumbstruck. It was outside of a church, right after a wedding service and i was standing on the roadside close to the entrance of the church waiting for a few of my friends to get ready. Hands in my pocket, wondering about the reception that was about to happen and thinking about how i was going to get my car out of that traffic mess.
I innocently turned my head to look around at the crowd.
To be honest, i don't even remember what you were wearing that day, the colour, the type of dress, the length.

I remember your eyes. We were standing atleast 10 feet away from each other, around 15 people between us. And I remember your eyes.
Half closed, with that oh-so-subtle natural smokey seductiveness that i can't stop noticing since then.
Your Bette Davis eyes.
And your smile. Kind of crooked towards the right, not too showy but showing just enough emotion to know that you were happy. Your hands were folded, arms outstretched down the front and you were holding something in your hand. Your back was arched in an angle that wasn't straight but wasn't too curvy either.
I like to think that it was when you saw me seeing you that you smiled but i'm not entirely sure, but it was when we made eye contact (or atleast when i made contact with your eye) that everything stopped moving.
The world froze for 2 seconds.
I remember us making conversation, but it was just words giving excuse for a chance to stand beside you and be looking at you without being overbearing or feeling like a stalker.

After the event, I brushed it aside. Logic took over. Too many things to consider, too many things that blocked me from you. And i covered it up with thoughts of everything that was affecting my life more pressingly then.
But the seed was planted. Even when my friends set me up on dates, even when i tried my best to be as openly available to relationships and flings.
And then i left town.

'Your blog is good' *Note* If you want to get a guy's attention, knowingly or unwittingly, there is no better way than appreciating something he considers a creation of his own. Especially when its an internet venture fueled by artistic expression and isn't obviously accessible. Who knows how you got to know that i wrote a blog, much less be interested in checking it out, but in my mind that set a few wheels rolling.
Yes, i posted the link on my Facebook profile, but few people even know such a feature exists. And even if they did, how many people actually check out another person's details and profile that thoroughly unless they were atleast a little bit interested. 
Damn the fact that you could've just been idly passing the time randomly checking out people's facebook uploads and statuses, damn the fact that you were probably just being polite.
In my mind, it was like a sign. Lol. I just had to lol right now, sorry about that. *Cough**Cough*

There are an unlimited number of ways i can portray myself as unworthy for wooing someone's affections. I used to do it all the time. Variations of "i'm not good enough"+"she won't get me"+"Our circles are different" types of reasons. But since the time i've been going on dates, i've matured in a way that i can choose to protray myself and not be affected much with how the person reacted because in the end i'll always have me, and i don't want to ever be hitched to a person i can't be myself with. 
It was so natural when i went out with you. In a totally unnatural way. I've been in relationships before, i've loved and been loved. I've been in awkward situations where i had no idea how to go about them, and i've been in totally easy situations where everything was properly controlled. When you let me take you out, it SHOULD have been an awkward situation. It SHOULD have been me stumbling around, uneasy and nauseous. But it wasn't. You were an unknown variable, still probably are. I didn't know what you liked, how you went about doing things, how you preferred to talk. But you made me want to find out. You still do. Even when i asked you out on a date, and you politely declined, i SHOULD have been naturally backing away. And maybe its really superficial of me to base my reason not to on this, but you smiled and you looked at me when you did. Do you know your nose twitches a bit when you get nervous? Do you know that you have a slight clumsiness about you when you walk? Especially when you go down a slope? Do you know that you have the most comfortable way of being nervous?

I don't regret a thing that happened or didn't happen, obviously i wished that something more substantial came out of all this, and sometimes i wonder what would've happened if i had played the bad guy when i had the chance. But i didn't. I played me, with you. And i'm happy, because i was able to be me, with you. I also wonder, were you ever really yourself with me? Not just trying to adjust to me, or portraying a persona that you thought suited the occasion and my company? But that was your choice, and i can do nothing but wonder.

And maybe this won't go any further. Maybe i'll forget you and we may never meet again. Maybe we'll keep in touch and become friends and totally familiar with each other laughing about the time i thought about wooing you. Or maybe, just maybe, something might happen. Maybe the dream i have of a lady in front of me, on top of a castle, with a lake reflecting the full moon in the background, looking back at me smiling, in a silver gown turns out to be you. Maybe the laughter of the girl running through the green fields on the slope of icy mountaintops, turns out to be yours. Maybe the touch of the woman's hand on mine as we sit in front of a fire in a cottage alone at night, as crickets mate and firewood crackles, turns out to be yours.  

Everything, or Nothing, as long as it is Something, and not just Anything.